For A Bun of Bread

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Do wake up early before the sunrise

Get yourself ready to school

Do study hard everyday and do not you be lazy

Because only with all of this

One day you will earn a bun of bread in your hand

And so my mum advised me.

Later as I grow up, I got a decent job after spending many years at school and college.

Mum said ‘see, you did earn your one bun of bread now’.

I smiled briefly but then inside me, I realized that I am longing for another bun of bread. Perhaps the one that I have not found yet.

VZ

Dili, 16/1/2018

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Merry Christmas

O come ye, o come ye

Be joyful and let us merry

Christ has born

As a poor fellow

Is it Christ who has born or we ourselves remind our birth in an annual scene?

We are all born as a poor, naked and no name

But everyone still merry for us or not at all

Even so, let us be merry and joyful

Because we have born to live

O come ye, o come y

Be joyful and let us be merry

Baucau, December 24, 2017

A CONCERT OF POP MUSIC AT THE HEART OF THE CITY

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What do you see during the concert of pop music at heart of the city?

 

Is it the setting of the stage where the blinking lights are all around?

 

Is it the unstoppable speech of the host?

 

The native and foreign singers who sing with their beautiful voices?

 

The dancers who shake themselves in an amazing style?

 

Or, the crowds who surface like ants?

 

As for me. I am not only looking at these things.

 

Eyes of mine supposed to only look straightforward, yet they draw me to see a five-year-old boy holding a bunch of five balloons and selling them around.

 

Then, a father holding her little daughter buys a pink balloon from the five-year-old boy who sold the balloon. The father gives the balloon to her daughter. The little girl laughs out excitedly.

 

After that, a woman came along and took the little girl from her father. She kissed her daughter with laughter.

 

The three of them stand right in front of me holding the pink balloon they just bought and watching the concert of pop music at the heart of the city.

 

Now, I am the one who cannot see that concert of pop music at the heart of the city.

 

VZ

Largo Lecidere, Dili, Timor-leste, August 29, 2017

Honesty is Very Expensive!

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Honesty is very expensive!
To be honest in a truth is very costly
As you walk according to the counsel of truth
You will get insults, hatred
People say ‘how arrogant you are, how stupid you are, how you do not know anything.
Step aside!’
‘Do not you be so self-righteous! Do not you be so sanctimonious!
Let the lies rule over everything to go smoothly!
Who are you to confront?

Really my brothers and sisters …
Lying is cheap and easy and keeps everything go smooth
We are sweet to each other
We call each other ‘friends’
But who wants to punish his heart to death?
Is it you or me?


My brothers and sisters…
Honesty for the truth is expensive
But it is the one who gives freedom of life!

 

VZ, March 24, 2016

An Office Colleague

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#1

When you are here, it is noisy.

When you are not here, it is tranquil and mute.

When you are not here, there is no trouble.

When you are here, there will be trouble.

Yet from the trouble you brought with you, it had made us find the solution together.

You, noisiness, trouble and solution, we never let go of each other.

#2

It is no use for you to continue to tell everyone a fiery story about the ugliness and bad deeds of someone in order to impress your listeners. Probably it does sound amazing telling those stories. However, one day, neither you shall be infallible of mistakes.

O, my friend, the human being is indeed not perfect at all.

 

VZ, Dili, 2016

THE NIGHT OF HOLY THURSDAY

 

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On the night of the Holy Thursday, silent.
The hymns resonated.
Echoing from the cathedral of Baucau city
Sung by people who believe.
I sat alone, silent.
Listening, reading and asking.
After finished the supper with his disciples, what did Jesus do after that?
Whether He will also sit alone in silence like myself and listening to the hymn?

VZ
Baucau, 13.04.2017

Rosary of A Rural Lady

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Photo: A Timorese local woman

You live in a peaceful village

You grow along with the nature, the green mountains

Learn to follow the rules and wisdom of the ancestors.

 

In the morning, the cockcrow of the roosters wake you up

While the sunshine has not risen yet.

You enter the kitchen, lighting up the hearth and it smokes out

Later, a hot pitcher of an aromatic smell of coffee is ready to serve

With some freshly boiled cassava roots

It’s morning already’ So you said to everyone…

 

You live in a hut made of palm leaves and trunk

For your children, it is the most beautiful palace ever

As long as you are always there for them, every day and every night

To shelter your children with love.

 

To the spring fountain, there you go to take the water

Even if it is quite far to walk.

Filling the whole water pot, you carry it on your head

To the farm and rice field you go

To secure the food for your household

With palm leaves, you weave the winnower, mat, and basket

Those items are to contain the goods that belong to your household

 

You live with all your strength to serve

Sometimes you become weak and powerless

Yet still, you rise soon afterward.

 

‘The night is coming…’

So you summon everyone to gather

In a table with an ample of food

You fulfill their hunger, thirst, and fatigue

Then, there you sit still

Listening and seeing them talk

Measuring their mind and soul,

Feeling their burden and relieve.

 

Today has passed away

Yet still you believe that tomorrow is coming

Despite you do know not what it will bring.

You do ask not a lot of things

You do aspire not a high dream

As to you, it is enough

When the future of your children can be bright

Though someday, you might not be there at all to see it….

Dedicated to Timor-Leste rural mothers…
Vitalia Ze, Dili, October 15,  2014

The White House

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The white house, a beautiful house
it is so beautiful, in the eyes that see it.
Built with various precious things
with the sweats of the poor builders
Who gain fewer wages than the work of their hands.

The white house, a beautiful house
It is the symbol of pride for the rich
Though it is beautiful  outside
Some are empty inside.

When a poor man came to its door
the body will seize, the feet tremble at the entrance
It’s because of its great beauty
It’s because of the glitters are everywhere
Makes the dust on the feet also being afraid to stay longer….

VZ, Dili, 10 January 2015